You Are
by CeliaEquus
Summary: Tired of Bucky being unhappy, Phil reveals his own feelings through anonymous letters and presents. But what happens when Bucky wants to know the identity of his secret admirer? Disclaimer: I don't own the Avengers, or any other Marvel thingummies, nor am I making money from this.
1. Chapter 1

"Chapter One"

Everyone clinked their glasses together at the end of the toast. Phil was sitting between Clint and Pepper, and smiled across the table at the reasons for the celebration. It was one year to the day since Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes officially became Avengers.

Phil had been made liaison and handler for the Avengers after he recovered, and even accompanied some of them on undercover missions. On one such mission in Europe, Steve was nearly shot by a man in leather with a metal arm. Phil engaged him in a tussle, but his skill alone wouldn't have been enough to save him against the Winter Soldier's strength. He managed to rip off the man's mask, and froze in shock. If it wasn't for Steve's intervention, he would've ended up dead. As it was, Steve was nearly beaten as well, when he recognised the man as his long lost friend.

Barnes escaped, and Tony dug up all he could on the man, while Natasha provided as much information as she could remember. There was a press release and an appeal for his return. Nothing solid turned up until one winter's night, when someone landed on the balcony of Stark Tower, just outside the common area. Wings folded into a backpack, and the stranger carried Bucky to the window. The man was Sam Wilson, nicknamed The Falcon, and he'd found Bucky in a bad way.

The former Winter Soldier recovered, and Sam visited frequently. When the Avengers were called to assemble one day, while Thor was in Asgard, Sam and Bucky joined them in the fight against HYDRA. A couple of weeks later, there was another press conference, where Bucky and Sam were inducted into the superhero squad.

It had been a year since then, and Sam had successfully integrated himself into their lives. Bucky, on the other hand, still seemed like an outsider, even to Steve. He kept on the perimeter of their group, despite the others trying to bring him in on their activities.

So Phil made a decision. As soon as the party was over, he cornered Bucky.

"Will you come see me in my office tomorrow?" Phil asked.

"Uh… sure," Bucky said, averting his eyes. "If you want."

"Please."

"Okay."

* * *

Bucky had SHIELD clearance, although he steered clear of the agents as much as he could. He knew that they didn't trust him. Hell, more than a year on he still didn't trust himself. He'd apologised to Agent Coulson over and over again for nearly killing him, but he'd not only told Bucky to use his first name, he'd said that the key word was 'nearly', and that he had been as autonomous as a weapon at the time.

Regardless, he owed a lot to the agent, and was willing to do whatever he asked. Phil wanted to see him? Well, then Bucky would see him.

"Hello, Bucky," Phil said when Bucky poked his head in the door.

"Hi, Phil."

"Please sit down."

Bucky hesitated, then made for the chair in front of Phil's desk. "Okay."

"Not there," Phil said, holding up a hand. Bucky halted in place. "There." He pointed with a pen towards the sofa placed against the wall, between two filing cabinets.

"Why there?" Bucky asked, shuffling towards it nonetheless.

"When Barton started at SHIELD, he used to hang out in my office. Said I was the only SHIELD agent he trusted. Until he felt more comfortable, and people got used to him, he'd complete his reports here. We'd eat lunch together, I'd patch up minor injuries after missions. When Natasha started here, he insisted that she do the same. Sometimes it was both of them, sometimes just one." Bucky lowered himself onto the middle of the sofa, staring at Phil. "I suspect I'm a calming influence on new agents. They weren't the first, and they weren't the last." He stood up, and carried a StarkPad over to Bucky. "Games, books, movies, TV shows, music. I know you don't have any reports to do – thank you for actually filling out your paperwork – so just enjoy yourself."

"You think this'll work?" Bucky asked.

"Lie down, if you want." Phil sat behind his desk again. "I'm not bothered. It's nice to have the company."

Bucky lay back, although he kicked his boots off before resting his feet at one end of the sofa. He turned his head and sniffed the cushion he was resting against.

"Lavender?" he said.

"It's soothing. Yes, I spray the sofa with calming scents. As long as it helps people."

With a small smile, Bucky settled in to flick through the contents of the StarkPad, and Phil returned to work.

* * *

There was something so inherently young about Sergeant James Barnes. Phil had been watching him for months. The man was even more handsome in person, and there was a sparkle of charm that, if he exercised it, would be sure to knock anyone off their feet. He had been dealt a terrible lot in life, and sometimes it showed. But not when Bucky was smiling. And when he laughed, Phil almost dropped his pen. His heart pounded as the sniper threw his head back, chortling over whatever he was reading.

"Good?" Phil asked when Bucky was quiet again. Bucky's head jerked up.

"Yeah," he said. "Thanks."

Phil smiled politely. He wondered whether he could convince Bucky to keep visiting.

He didn't need any convincing, as it turned out. Bucky was happy to continue hanging out in Phil's office, even when he wasn't there. Phil knew he was surprised to receive that permission, and wished he'd thought of doing this sooner.

As the days and weeks went by, as they turned into months, Phil came to know some of Bucky's tastes. He drew the man out, bit by bit. They shared lunch most days, and the former Winter Soldier became Phil's new charge.

(Yes, he fell for him, hard, but that didn't mean a lot. Not to Phil, definitely not to anyone else, because no one would _ever_ know.)

But he noticed that Bucky was lonely. Not when they were together, but when they were with the other Avengers. Or whenever the Avengers were on the news. It was agonising, seeing a young man, usually full of spirit, watching his team-mates with a wistfulness that made Phil's heart ache.

"You know that they care about you," Phil murmured to Bucky, who looked at him sharply.

"Them?" he asked.

"And you know that Steve loves you."

"Not in the way I need from someone," Bucky said. "Not the kind of love I'd get from a dame. I don't feel that way, but I… I _want_ to feel that way about someone."

"You have the capacity for it," Phil said, stamping down the disappointment that Bucky only considered women. (Not that he ever had a chance in the first place.)

"Just not the choice." Bucky smiled sardonically. "Even if I got a crush on a girl, she wouldn't look at me twice. Not if she saw this," he indicated his prosthetic, "in the first look."

"Would you want someone that superficial?"

"No, but…"

"Unrequited love sucks?"

"Got it in one, Phil."

"More than you know," he muttered.

"What d'you mean?"

Of course. Super-hearing. "I know how it feels."

"Wanting to want someone?"

"Unrequited love. I know what it's like."

Bucky squeezed his shoulder. "You're a good man. Any woman would be lucky to have you."

"I don't… Thank you, Bucky. That means a lot."

He beamed at Phil. "I'll see you tomorrow, right?"

"Not tomorrow, but my office is still open to you."

"Oh. Well, I'll see you when you get back."

Phil nodded. "Absolutely."

He hid it as best he could while Bucky wandered off to talk to Steve and Sam, leaving Phil alone. As usual.

* * *

The conversation haunted him. Tossing and turning in bed like some goddamned cliché, he eventually threw the covers off and sat up.

"JARVIS, are you awake?"

"Of course, sir," the AI said, sounding amused. Phil grumbled to himself. "How can I help you?"

"Lights to twenty percent," Phil said. The room became dimly lit. "If I tell you something, can you promise never to tell anyone?"

"Yes. I can erase any evidence from my circuitry, except for a single encrypted file in my memory which can only be opened by you, sir."

"That. That's good."

"Very well, Agent Coulson. What is it you wish to tell me?"

"I'm…" Phil rubbed his tired eyes. "I'm in love. It's not returned – very much not returned – but I want him to know that someone cares for him. Want him to know that he's not alone."

"Indeed, sir?"

"I was thinking… an anonymous note. And maybe a present. I don't want my identity to be revealed; I just want to cheer him up."

"Is it Sergeant Barnes?"

Phil shot a glare at the ceiling. "Who else knows?"

"Merely an induction based on your comments, Agent Coulson, as well as a noticeable increase in attention towards him."

"D'you think anyone else knows?"

"I doubt it, sir. However, as requested, I will not tell anyone, nor will I confirm any suspicions they may ask me to verify."

"Thanks," Phil said, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Could you help me work something out? Just be a sounding board? Maybe an eventual partner in crime?"

"I would be delighted."

"Thanks, JARVIS."

* * *

Two days later, Bucky received a package in the mail. A note fell out, and he picked it up.

"JARVIS, what's this?" he asked.

"It was scanned before being delivered to your floor," JARVIS replied.

"Good," Bucky said absently. He opened the note, and stared at it.

'You are as witty as Clint.'

He tore the wrapping off the present, and turned the DVD box in his hands. He stroked the surface, the first season of _The Muppet Show_. He'd seen a couple of the Christmas movies, but didn't even know that there'd been a TV series until recently. He'd been thinking about getting them, and now here was the first season in a set.

"Did you order this for me?" he said.

"No, Sergeant Barnes. It appears that you have a secret admirer."

"Strange note for a secret admirer," Bucky remarked. "It compares me to Clint."

"Favourably, I hope, sir."

"Depends on how witty you think Clint Barton is. Assuming it's that Clint."

"Who else would it be?"

"Yeah." Bucky frowned, and left the gift and missive on his coffee table. He decided not to mention it over breakfast with the others. They were too damn nosy for their own good.

* * *

**I'm getting onto a Bucky/Phil kick, sorry to say. I keep coming up with these happy ideas which turn angsty, and terribly hard to return to the happiness. Oh dear.**

**Anyone actually interested in reading this? I have a love of secret admirer fics, but I know it's still an obscure pairing, despite my attempts to make it otherwise.**

**Anyway. Please review!**


	2. Chapter 2

"Chapter Two"

Slowly, Bucky accumulated several notes and presents from his secret admirer. He found it hard to believe that someone would go to this much trouble simply to trap him, when he was out often enough for an enemy to make a move.

'You are as charismatic as Tony' was accompanied by a framed photograph of a press conference, where Bucky had just cracked a joke and everyone was laughing. It was kind of a good picture of him, with Avengers on both sides, Pepper and Phil in the background, and he could tell that maybe they saw him as more than an ally. Not quite a friend, but a friendly team-mate.

'You are as kick-ass as Natasha' came with hand-wraps in his favourite colour, his preferred brand. His others were getting worn from sparring with Steve, Natasha, Clint, Sam, and Thor, not to mention beating up punching bags.

'You are as cool as Sam' was with a pair of sunglasses. Bucky had his own, of course, but he'd admired Sam's shades a couple of times. Clearly, someone had been taking notice, maybe reporting to his secret admirer. The sunglasses were silver, with red lightning bolt shapes on the arms.

'You are as generous as Thor' was his fifth note, and the gift was a pair of cufflinks from the Avengers merchandise line. He'd already been given his own – a silver hand which he didn't really like – but these were the fanciest ones. The Avengers 'A', thanks to Tony's tower, inlaid with mother-of-pearl. Bucky had never given them much thought, but the one time he wore cufflinks was whenever they attended some charity do. That was probably what his gift-giver meant.

'You are as strong as Bruce' made him hesitate, until he realised the meaning behind the gift. It was one of those little empowerment books, about 'beating your demons'. Just as Bruce only used the Hulk in battle, Bucky only let the Winter Soldier out when necessary, and had learned to control him. Never again would he be a puppet.

'You are as stubborn as Steve' was probably his favourite. Partly to do with the fact that Steve was his oldest friend, and partly to do with the fact that the present was a first aid kit. On the front of it were stamped the words 'USE ME', which made him laugh. The others were just as bad as he was when it came to seeking medical help after a fight, which had become a running joke around SHIELD. He stored the box in his bathroom cabinet, and decided that maybe next time, if he only had minor injuries, he'd actually do something about it. Sure, he healed pretty quickly, but his secret admirer had made the effort, so he would, too.

"Any mail for me today, JARVIS?" Bucky asked casually. Keeping his interest secret from the AI was useless, to be honest, but he kept up the pretence.

"Yes, Sergeant Barnes," JARVIS said. "It is being brought to your floor as we speak."

"Awesome," Bucky said, standing up. The delivery woman waved as she left, smirking slightly. He'd already admitted to her that he was getting anonymous gifts, and she'd teased him right back about having a secret admirer. But he knew that she was married, so it couldn't be her.

Sometimes, he tried to picture what kind of dame would send him all these things, not to mention the notes. She knew exactly what he'd like, before he even knew it himself. Did she have curves, or was she one of those sticks? Did she have bouncy hair, short hair, dyed hair, no hair? Was she young, old? Did she work for SHIELD? Would he like her when they met?

Because they had to meet. Bucky was falling in love, really in love, with a shadow, and he wanted to see her. Court her. Discover everything he could about her. Marry her, make love to her…

Which led him to think about what she might be like in bed. Soft, fierce, ticklish, silent, loud? Was she a virgin or experienced? Would she be a wildcat or coy? Would she care about the arm and the scars? Was she kinky?

Thinking about her took up a lot of his alone time. It was hard to fantasise without any idea of what she looked like. Hell, he thought more about his feelings than his body since this whole thing began. Did she feel as strongly about him as he felt about her?

If only everything wasn't printed and wiped clear of fingerprints. Either she was being a tease, or she preferred to stay anonymous because she thought he wouldn't want her. Well, that was crazy. Of course he wanted her, whoever she was. Who else was proving to know so much about him?

Shaking himself, he opened the note, wondering who he was going to be compared to next.

No one, as it turned out.

'You are as witty, charismatic, kick-ass, cool, generous, strong, stubborn, and so much more as Sergeant James Buchanan 'Bucky' Barnes, aka the Winter Soldier'.

To save time, Bucky sat on the floor, rather than aiming for a chair. He reached out and grabbed the present, tearing the wrapping off before the note had even hit the ground. It was a Bucky action figure, the latest one. A sticky note, also somehow printed, said 'The world sees you as a hero, and so do I'.

"JARVIS," Bucky said. "Do you know who's been sending these?"

"I do not have any record in my accessible memory."

"Thanks. That's real helpful."

"No doubt there is a reason behind these missives being anonymous, sir."

"I want to meet her. I…" Damn it. This just sealed the deal. He was definitely in love, and he had no idea who she was. "Is there any way you can find out her identity?"

"The standard tests are performed automatically, Sergeant Barnes. Nothing detectible. It appears that old-fashioned detective work is in order."

"Good thing I know spies," Bucky said. "I think… maybe it's time to tell them."

* * *

They watched in silence as Bucky placed each note and gift in front of the seven other Avengers.

"I really hope you took this as a compliment," Clint said, poking his note.

"I tried to, Barton. I really did." Clint snorted in laughter.

"You have no idea who is sending these?" Natasha asked.

"None, and neither does JARVIS."

"I said that it was not in my accessible memory, sir," JARVIS piped up. "If there is any evidence, I cannot locate it on my own."

"What if your secret admirer doesn't want to be found?" Bruce said, frowning as he scanned the back of the book. "If they weren't shy, at least about their feelings, why wouldn't they just approach you? Or at least sign their name?"

"Or leave any clues at all," Sam added.

"Maybe whoever it is… is just trying to make me feel better," Bucky said, slumping onto his elbows on the tabletop. "But… no. These presents have been well thought out. They're personal to me, and I want to find who knows me well enough. It's… not any of you, is it?" They all shook their heads. "Hello, square one; long time, no see."

"Barnes, you've fallen for an idea," Clint said gently. "If you find your secret ad—"

"When," Bucky said. He was firm about that, and Clint nodded.

"When you find them, what exactly do you plan to do?"

Bucky stared at the polished wood finish, and drummed his metal fingers with a clickety-clack. "Court her. If she really does want me. Find out what her game is, first and foremost."

"Could be a guy," Sam said, spreading a hand. "There are gay appreciation groups for every single one of us, and a lesbian one for Natasha."

"A lot of ogling goes on," she said. Bucky blanched.

"It wouldn't be a man," he said, looking at all of them. "Would it?"

"Bucky," Steve said sternly. "You know what kind of neighbourhood we grew up in. You're not gonna start slinging off at non-heterosexuals, are you?"

"What? No, of course not. It's just that I'm not… I'm…"

"Even if you don't wanna hop in bed with a man, it doesn't mean you can't fall in love with one," Clint said. "Could you be bi-romantic?"

"There are so many damn terms these days," Bucky said, rubbing his eyes. "Christ, I don't know what to think."

"Your reaction indicates that your admirer is sensible to remain unknown," Thor said, and Bucky groaned.

"Look, I just want to know who it is," he said. "I can take it from there."

"Very well," Natasha said, standing up. "We will start investigating for you."

Bucky stared at her. "Really? I just wanted some input, not—"

"You're one of us, so we help you," Tony said, also getting to his feet. "I'm gonna start hacking JARVIS's mainframe. If anyone needs me, I'll be in my workshop."

Tony hopped into the elevator, already talking to himself – or possibly to JARVIS – about where to begin. Steve clapped Bucky on the shoulder, and offered to help him take the gifts and notes back upstairs. It was unnecessary, and clear that Steve wanted a private talk with him.

"You've gotta be careful, Bucky," Steve said as they climbed the stairs. "What if it's a trap?"

"Gee, now why didn't I think of that?" Bucky said, rolling his eyes. "Steve, I've thought through every possibility. If I don't at least take the chance, I'll be losing out. I'd rather risk something bad happening than not try to grab something good for goddamn once."

"Everyone's gonna do their best," Steve said. "You know that, right? And we'll be there for you if it doesn't work out."

"Injury or heartbreak? I don't know which'd be worse."

"I want it to work out for you, Buck. I really do. You deserve someone who loves you for who you are."

"Do I?"

"_Yes_," Steve said. "You gotta believe this, or all the time we've put into helping you heal will be for nothing."

Bucky glanced at his armful of presents. "I'm in love with this person. I know it."

"Then we'll find them," Steve murmured. "I promise."

* * *

Tony tinkered away, despite JARVIS's occasional token protest.

"Seriously, J, who is it?" Tony said. "I know you have to know. Even if the files can only be opened by whoever activated them, you'd at least have to keep a record somewhere. Show Daddy where it is, okay?"

"Sir, does it not occur to you that this person wishes privacy?"

"Privacy? In this day and age? If it's on your system, I'll find it. A name, any name."

"I really must protest."

"Oh, must you?" Tony said mockingly. "C'mon, JARVIS. Cut me some slack, here. Just trying to help out a buddy."

"I was unaware that you considered Sergeant Barnes to be such a close friend."

"Well, he's…" Tony paused. "He's hard to get to know. Heh." He shrugged. "Just had a thought. You're not his secret admirer, are you?"

"Of course not, sir. I would remember that."

"I guess you couldn't stop yourself from accessing files you created only to be accessed by you."

"Indeed, sir."

"At least you've told me one thing."

"What is that?"

"It's someone you trust. That narrows it down from two billion to about fifty."

* * *

Later that evening, during dinner, JARVIS notified Bucky that he had been given an anonymous message from the secret admirer.

"Let's hear it," Bucky said, hoping for at least some clue.

"It is not an audio recording, sir. It is an email from a missing – no doubt deleted – address." He displayed the message in its entirety:

'Please don't search for me. I am far from your usual type. You would only be disappointed. I wanted you to cheer up and accept how wonderful you are. I never expected anything in return, and I couldn't face rejection. I'm sorry. I just hope I've helped.'

"I guess you tried tracing it as soon as it came through?" Steve said when Bucky sat there, looking stony-faced.

"The email account cannot be replied to, Captain Rogers."

* * *

Phil stopped tapping his pencil the moment Bucky walked into his office. The man claimed his usual place on the sofa, curling up with the StarkPad, and Phil tried to return to his work.

Every time he encountered Bucky, Phil was terrified that the truth would come out. He thought before he spoke, censored everything he said, and spent the rest of the time in silence. Fortunately, Bucky didn't pay much attention to him. Phil knew that the sniper was looking for his secret admirer – thank you, JARVIS and the SHIELD rumour mill – and had already noticed Bucky studying every woman he met. Even some of the men, so at least he seemed open-minded.

It was good. Bucky clearly had no idea that Phil was behind the anonymous letters and presents. But it hurt like hell that he didn't merit even the slightest suspicion.

"How're you doing?" he asked. Bucky glanced up at him, startled, and then smiled.

"Good," he said. "If I can solve this mystery, I'll be even better."

"Is that what you're reading?"

"What? No." He shook his head. "It's a list I've been working on, with help from the others."

"What kind of list?" Phil said. Then he mentally chastised himself. "Sorry, it's none of my business."

"Nah, that's okay," Bucky said. "It's… I've kinda got… a secret admirer."

Phil frowned on cue. "You sure it's not a stalker?"

"I've gotta find out one way or another. `Cause if it's not a stalker…" He trailed off, smiling to himself, and Phil wished things could be different. "I'm sure you can guess."

"I'll let you get back to it, then," Phil said. If he pushed too much, Bucky would probably get suspicious, and then all the secrecy would be for nothing.

* * *

**What kind of list is Bucky working on? You'll find out in the next chapter.**

**Now, I could go one of two ways, and I'm close to picking one out of a hat. I have many a hat, as some of you may know. I wouldn't use the chook hat, though; no stuffed chicken deserves to be held upside down and shaken. (Fake chicken, not a former real one. Just thought I should clarify, what with being a vegetarian and all.)**

**Holy hellfire! Surprising number of reviews for the first chapter. Kind of doing an internal dance over here. Keep up the good work, dear readers!**


	3. Chapter 3

"Chapter Three"

"Any luck yet?" Steve asked, poking his head over Bucky's shoulder.

"I think it's pretty exhaustive," Bucky said, staring down at the StarkPad. "Can you think of anything to add?"

Based on the email from his secret admirer, Bucky had started work on a list of the characteristics of the women he usually expressed interest in. If his mysterious gift-giver really was basically the opposite of Bucky's type, all he had to do was invert the list. At least that was his reasoning. It was the best he could go on while Clint and Natasha made inquiries, and Tony tried to convince JARVIS to give them a list of names.

"So far you've got female, young, pretty, long hair, curvy, got moxie, got a friend for Stevie – yeah, thanks for that, Buck – likes dancing, outgoing. Wouldn't outgoing go with moxie?"

"Yeah, but my secret admirer's being… secretive, so I think outgoing definitely applies as an opposing characteristic."

"'Opposing characteristic'?" Steve teased. "Look at you, playing detective."

"Punk," Bucky said, poking Steve hard.

"You forgot to put 'alive' on the list."

"Shut up. My secret admirer's obviously alive, and all my past girlfriends are either in their nineties or six feet under."

"True," Steve said, sobering. "If we're going with opposites, your secret admirer is male, older, plain, short-haired, not-curvy, moxie-less, no friend for me, you jerk, hates dancing, and is shy. That's pretty damn specific. Do we even know anyone like that?"

"Do we know anyone who doesn't have moxie?" Bucky said. He let his head fall onto the back of his armchair. "Do we know anyone who's shy?"

"Don't forget, JARVIS also has to trust them. Besides, your secret admirer said that they're far from your usual type, not the exact opposite."

"Is it bad that I want it to be a woman?" Bucky asked softly. Steve tilted his head.

"I just don't think you should close your mind to all the possibilities," he said.

"It's only `cause I don't know what to do with a man. Wouldn't want to disappoint him. Shit." He placed the StarkPad down, and rubbed his eyes. "It _is_ a guy, isn't it? Maybe I should start researching."

"The internet's probably not the best place to do that. D'you want me to pick up some health pamphlets for you, or grab a book from the library?"

"I'll find something by myself."

"It could be a dame."

"Nah," Bucky said. "Everyone knows that I've always gone for girls. It makes sense for my secret admirer to be a man."

"Something else you left off the list," Steve said.

"What?"

"Most of the girls you've gone for in the past are pretty vapid. I guess that's because you didn't want a relationship before. So the opposite would be someone down-to-earth."

"I don't mind," Bucky said. "I want someone accepting and intelligent. And alive. That's basically my new standard."

"Kind, smart, living. Got it. Seems like they already tick all your boxes."

"Probably part of the attraction. How does a kid from Brooklyn end up like this?"

"If you ever work out the answer to that one, let me know," Steve said, squeezing Bucky's shoulder. "I'm going to the gym. Wanna come with?"

"Later."

"Exercise stimulates the brain."

"I guess so," Bucky said. "I'll go get changed."

* * *

Phil didn't want to know how JARVIS had guessed that he was Bucky's secret admirer; his only consolation was that the AI hadn't shared his suspicions with anyone. And he was extremely grateful that JARVIS liked him so much.

"You think he's close to figuring it out?" Phil asked. JARVIS played the recording of Bucky and Steve going over the list and figuring out the opposites. Phil winced at the truths revealed, and he knew he had to do something. As soon as Natasha and Clint heard the list, they would know exactly who it was. Like he could ever keep anything from them.

He summoned them to his office.

"I have something to confess," he said, indicating the chairs in front of his desk. Natasha sat, and Clint stood behind her.

"What's up?" Clint said.

"You've heard about Sergeant Barnes's secret admirer," Phil said.

"Yes," Natasha said. "What about it?"

Phil cleared his throat and lowered his eyes, folding his hands on the top of his desk. He waited. Both inhaled sharply at the same time.

"It's you," Clint said. "You're the guy who sent all those notes and the presents."

"I am," Phil said. "I don't want him to find out it's me."

"Why the hell not?"

"Because I remained anonymous for a reason, Barton!" Natasha arched an eyebrow, and Phil dropped the volume. "It would make things awkward. I don't mix work and relationships for a reason. I'm too old for him – physically, if not by birth date – and judging by his usual type he could never be attracted to me. Not the way I am to him."

"He's in love with you, you know," Clint said.

"With me, or with his secret admirer?" Phil pointed out. Natasha sighed.

"The second one," she said. "But if you gave him a chance—"

"I'd end up with my heart broken," he said. "There's a very high chance that it would never work out. We don't have enough in common. I fell in love with him from a distance as well as up close, but my feelings alone wouldn't carry a relationship. Nor would his feelings for a mere concept. It would fall apart, and I'd be left alone again, worse off than before. So please. I only told you this because I trusted you to keep it secret." He leaned forward. "I need you to stop him from finding out. Distract him with someone else if you have to, but don't let him find out that it's me."

"JARVIS knows, doesn't he?" Clint asked.

"Every time he talks to me about it, he erases the conversation from his data banks. Technically, he has no memory of it."

"You won't give Barnes the benefit of the doubt," Natasha said. It wasn't a question.

"I can't afford to. I've gotten used to being on my own. Jumping into a relationship was never what I had in mind with this. I wanted him to be happy, to go find someone to spend the rest of his life with."

"In our line of work, the rest of our life could be a month, or a day, or even a minute. Allow him to choose for himself."

Phil chewed his lower lip as he studied the desktop again. "If he ever finds out, somehow, don't ever tell me. Don't let _him_ tell me. I don't want to know."

"What if…" Clint trailed off, and then began again. "What if he works out that we know, and asks who it is? We won't tell him, of course not. But if he asks us whether it's you, can we tell him then?"

"Just as long as I never know, I don't care."

"And if he finds out, and wants to attempt a relationship with you?" Natasha said.

"Put him off. Lie, if you have to. I don't want to date Bucky Barnes. There's too much at stake."

"His own heart is at stake," she said sharply. "He spent too long without free will. Do you really wish to deprive him of the opportunity to decide for himself?"

Phil swallowed. "It's selfish of me, I know. But he's physically young, and he may never age. He's certainly an enhanced human, and I'm not. Barring catastrophe, I have less time on this Earth than he does, and I don't want to spend what's left of it regretting a failed relationship with someone I _work_ with. I'd have to leave if it all went wrong."

"You couldn't handle the situation like an adult?" Clint said, crossing his arms.

"I'm in too deep to be thinking clearly about it," Phil said. "I… I'll give him his choice. If he worked out that it was me and approached me, I'd talk it over with him. But I can't see him deciding that I'm worth it, when we have nothing in common. And no, 'opposites attract' does not always work. It never has with me before."

"You're both heroes, you both like big band music, you're both alive, both male," Clint replied, shrugging. "That's a good place to start."

"And you both kill bad people for a living," Natasha added unhelpfully.

"I need you to reassure me that you won't tell him, unless – as you suggested, Clint – he asks you specifically whether I'm his secret admirer. Swear it. Please."

They agreed, and Phil tried to ignore his sense of foreboding as they walked out of his office. (Well, Natasha walked; Clint took to the vents.)

* * *

Bucky glared at the ceiling of the workshop.

"You at least have an idea," he told JARVIS. "Is it too much to ask you to send a message for me?"

"It depends upon what you wish to say," JARVIS replied.

"How about this: 'Please tell me your name. I want to meet you, whoever you are. Maybe for dinner?' If you can find out who it is, please tell them that, JARVIS."

The AI sighed, and Tony looked up sharply.

"You've been copying humans again, haven't you?" he said.

"The message is sent," JARVIS said, ignoring his creator. "I will inform you should there be a reply."

"Thanks," Bucky said.

There was a reply, half an hour later. A rejection, with a plea not to make contact again. Tony told JARVIS off for keeping it secret, but the AI was stern.

"Should I reveal their identity, there is a ninety-seven-point-six percent chance of heartbreak, according to my calculations," JARVIS said. "I will not risk that, sir."

"Whose heart would be broken, in this case?" Bucky muttered.

The fact that JARVIS changed the subject said quite a lot.

But Bucky wasn't going to be deterred. He ignored his admirer's wishes, and started getting JARVIS to send messages. Each one was in the same style, although he wasn't in a position to send gifts. 'You are as brave as Steve', 'You are as kind as Thor', 'You are as mysterious as Natasha' (because he couldn't resist that one), and so on. There were no replies, although JARVIS assured him that the messages were getting through.

At one point, Tony told JARVIS that he'd be reprogrammed unless he spilled the beans on Bucky's admirer. JARVIS threatened to stop sending the messages, which was far from what Bucky wanted, so Tony had to back down.

"Now I know what it feels like to have rebellious offspring," he said. "Thanks a bunch, Barnes."

Before Bucky could send a final note, like the last one he'd received, JARVIS slipped up and referred to the secret admirer as 'he'. The AI refused to send the last message, shutting off his system to Bucky, and Tony as well in retaliation.

"Please," Bucky begged. "I kind of already worked out that it was probably a man, and I've been doing research so I won't look like a complete idiot in bed. I hope. The point is, I'm prepared, and same-sex marriage is legal now, or at least it is here. If this isn't a trap, I want my secret admirer to be my first… my only guy. Please tell him that?"

JARVIS was silent. Bucky could only hope the message was received.

* * *

Some skeletons like to dance out of closets every so often. In this case, an old mark from twenty-odd years ago had resurfaced. Phil's identity from an undercover case was still intact, and although he technically no longer went into the field, he was going to have to make an exception this time. And since it seemed that his target, his 'friend', was associating with people who may or may not recognise Phil, he'd be lucky to get away after he got the information and arranged the right arrests. He didn't tell the Avengers, but there was a good chance he might not come back. Even Fury tried to talk him out of it.

"Who else knows Jameson the way I do?" Phil said. "You need me to do this, Nick."

"I'd prefer you to be alive, Coulson."

"There's still a chance that I'll get away with it. I may be out of practise, but that shouldn't affect anything. If nothing else, it'll add to my cover. When the group split up, we were all supposed to live respectable lives, and I've maintained the cover – in paperwork – all these years. It'll be easy to slip back in, make contact again, and get what I need. A weekend operation at most. If it makes you feel better, I could have someone on the comms at all times?"

"Yeah, it'd make me feel better, but they could also check you over," Fury said. "That doesn't make me comfortable."

"Bugs don't make me feel comfortable, either," Phil said. "This has to be done. You know it, and you know that I'm the safest option we have."

"Unless someone recognises you!"

"Which is why I'll let my stubble grow out over the next few days. I can't risk fake facial hair, except maybe to slip into the meeting place, and then remove it. I'm sure Jameson will appreciate the necessity. He might even find it amusing."

Fury grimaced. "I hate this."

"I'm not overly happy about it, either, but that's life."

"Self-sacrificing ass."

"And yet I'm your one good eye."

"That you are," Fury muttered. "Fine. Do you want Romanov or Barton?"

"I'd prefer they stay with the Avengers, in case they're needed."

"Then I'll organise someone else."

Phil smiled half-heartedly. "Thanks for this, Nick."

"You suck, Coulson, especially when you're right."

* * *

Bucky looked back over his notes, the ones he received, and the presents. He considered who might know him well enough. Who did he have regular contact with, outside of the Avengers, their friends, and SHIELD?

No one, that's who. It wasn't the Avengers, nor their significant others. Bucky didn't really know many of the SHIELD agents that well. There was Phil, of course, but it wouldn't have been him. Hell, he wasn't even on the list of suspects he'd put together with the others' help. Clint and Natasha especially had contributed plenty of names. Yet they'd known Phil a long time; so why wouldn't they suggest him? Did they already know that it wasn't him? Did they _know_ who it was?

At this point, Bucky would take whoever it turned out to be, as long as they really were interested in him. He wouldn't have minded if it was Phil. The guy was nice to him, let Bucky hang out in his office, they shared lunch together, he was always interested in what Bucky was reading or watching or playing on the StarkPad.

Always… Ah, hell.

"Sir, a letter has just arrived for you," JARVIS said. The mail woman shoved it under the door on this occasion, although Bucky could see her shadow. He snatched up the envelope and tore it open. Please let it be…

'Bucky, I hated seeing you miserable and thinking you couldn't be loved, when I love you with everything in me. I never wanted you to know who I was, but since this might be my last chance to let you know, I'll say it now. I've been in love with you for months, and every time you've looked at someone else a little part of me has shrivelled up inside. But I was okay with that. I want you to find someone who matches you. That person isn't me. You'll agree when you realise who I am.'

It was handwritten, and the script was all too familiar from reports Bucky had watched him sign. But he had to know for sure. And he suddenly realised exactly who could tell him the truth.

* * *

**Yay! Much angst from now on, because this is me, and you have to earn your happy ending. Except when I'm being generous.**

**Okay, so I started posting a day early. The intention was to post the last chapter on Valentine's Day, Queensland time. (So we're more than halfway through.) There are two options:**

**1\. Delay one of the chapters by a day, to stick with my original plan.**

**2\. Finish this the day before Valentine's Day, and start posting my next, unrelated Bucky/Phil fan fic on Valentine's Day.**

**Which should it be, my dears?**


	4. Chapter 4

"Chapter Four"

"You know," Bucky said, standing between Clint and Natasha and the TV. Sam and Steve were there as well, and looked up at him.

"Know what?" Clint asked.

"It's Phil, isn't it," Bucky said, holding out the letter. "You didn't suggest that it could be him, so I figured it wasn't."

"We were supposed to keep you off the scent," Natasha said, shrugging. "It seemed to work."

"I was almost fooled, but then this came. I know that writing." He breathed in slowly. "So I'm right. Phil Coulson is my secret admirer."

"Was," Clint said. "Not so secret now, is it?"

"Is it… just a hero worship thing, or does he really love me?" Bucky said, suddenly shy about it.

"The gifts would suggest that he is in love with you, not the legend," Natasha said.

"So… what does it mean, that it's his last chance to tell me?"

Natasha and Clint glanced at each other.

"He left for a mission last night," Clint said. "A twenty-year-old cover that he's had to dredge up. It's dangerous, potentially fatal if he's caught and SHIELD can't intervene in time."

"We have to—"

"We don't have to do anything, Barnes. Phil knows what he's doing. He's one of the most senior SHIELD agents in the world, Fury's right hand man. He's the only one who can pull this off. He has backup. It's a damn courageous thing he's done, confessing it all to you." He glared at Bucky. "He never had to. He could've taken the secret to his grave, without having to face your rejection. Instead, if he returns, he'll do so knowing that you know, and that's a hundred times harder."

"I… I wouldn't reject him," Bucky said in a small voice. "I already like him a lot. That he's my secret admirer… that he loves me… Why the hell would I reject that? It's what I want, the only thing I really want. Someone to love me, and someone for me to love."

* * *

Contrary to their general luck, Phil returned from the mission earlier than expected. He'd been rumbled pretty quickly, but provided enough of a distraction for someone to go in, get the information they wanted, and summon the police to arrest both Jameson and several of his associates. Phil was lucky enough to have his SHIELD identification with him. He escaped with several cuts and probably a multitude of bruises, but nothing to his chest, thank God. He was battered but mobile, and went to his room to get some paper forms. His reading glasses had suffered in the ensuing fight; he wasn't up to squinting at a computer screen.

The easy mission had him thinking that someone was finally looking out for him. He entered his office to find that that was far from the case.

But really, after sending Bucky that letter, he should've been expecting this.

"Can I help you?" Phil asked, hiding his slight limp as he made for his desk. Bucky looked up from his StarkPad, and smiled.

"I dunno," he said. "Can you?"

"Bit too tired for games, Sergeant Barnes," Phil said, sinking into his desk chair. It was nice to take the weight off. Driving a car didn't count as resting. "What do you need?"

"Somebody to love. Isn't that what Queen sang?"

Phil narrowed his eyes while fiddling in his drawer. He pulled out the folder with physical copies of debriefing report forms, as Clint called them, and took one out.

"You're not moping, are you?" he said, closing the desk drawer again.

"Maybe."

He huffed. "After everything I've done to try to make you happy, you're still not satisfied?" he said angrily. "For God's sake, Bucky, what am I supposed to do?"

"Everything you've done?" Bucky asked, swinging his legs around to face Phil directly. He faltered.

"L-letting you stay in here," Phil said, blaming his tiredness for tripping over his words.

"I got your letter. You know. The one you sent when you thought you were going to _die_?"

He flinched, and folded up the form to take it home. "I know the one," he said quietly.

"Phil, why didn't you just _tell_ me?"

"Tell you what?" he said, standing up. It made his back ache, but it could've been worse. "That I was just another old man in love with a superhero out of my league? You're young, you're handsome, you're full of life. I was on a mission revisiting something which happened when Sam was still in school, and you're close to his age physically!"

"You're not old," Bucky said, stepping in front of Phil. "Just older. Don't you dare play the age card. Don't… don't play _any_ of those cards, which are just ridiculous, tired excuses to mask the truth."

"What truth?"

"That you like the idea of me, but you could never handle being in a relationship with the Winter Soldier, the dreaded assassin steeped in the blood of who knows how many deaths of innocent people. Could you accept the arm and the scars? Could you ever accept my history?"

"Of course I could!" Phil said. "I already do. I wouldn't be in love with you if I didn't accept every part of you." He looked away, tears stinging his eyes. "If you could just be happy, it'd be easier to get over you. But you're still miserable. That's the last thing I wanted."

"What was the first thing you wanted, Phil?" Bucky asked gently. Phil met his eyes.

"I wanted you to be happy," he said. "You've been so sad that it makes it hard to watch you. When you smile, when you _laugh_, I feel like I can move mountains with my bare hands. Why won't you just smile more?"

Bucky smiled on cue. "Why won't you let me take you out for coffee? That's what people do these days, right? Go for coffee?"

Phil closed up. "Why? You've never shown any attraction towards me."

"Because I fell in love with my secret admirer, and I want to get to know him better, outside of work."

He backed up a pace. "No. You fell in love with some pretty words and nice gifts, not with the flesh and blood person behind them."

"Phil—!"

"Did you even think that it could be me before you read that letter?"

"Only for about a minute. Clint and `Tasha did a good job of diverting my suspicions."

"I'm sorry, Bucky, but I can't do this," Phil said, brushing past him.

"So, what, it was all a lie?" Bucky asked. Phil paused at his door, and glanced back at Bucky.

"Go be happy with someone else," he said. "Someone who isn't me."

He disappeared then, and Bucky swallowed a sob.

"How am I s'posed to be truly happy again after that?" he whispered.

* * *

When Steve found him, Buck was huddled on the floor of his living room, a mess around him. Pieces of paper were strewn all over the carpet and the furniture, broken DVDs and glass lay scattered. The cufflinks were out of sight, but the box was ripped apart. Everything was destroyed, and Bucky sat in the middle of it, drying tear tracks lining his cheeks. Steve knelt beside him.

"Didn't go well, did it?" he said. Bucky sniffled.

"Stupid," he mumbled. "Should've seen it coming. 'Pretty words'. Ha." He wiped his nose with his sleeve. "You were all so concerned that my secret admirer would be rejected, when the real danger lay in the opposite direction."

"Phil rejected you?"

"Seems he was all talk. Said he loved me, but that he couldn't be with me. Told me I didn't love him, like I don't know how it feels, goddamnit. That I should go be happy with somebody else. Can't he see that I just wanted him?"

Steve hesitated, then said, "How long have you been in love with Phil?"

"I don't know," Bucky said. His voice was thick. "Before I knew it was him, I thought it'd be kinda nice if he was my secret admirer. He's a good guy, only I looked at women, not men, so I never noticed him like that. But he's been swell towards me. He made me feel like a human being again. Maybe the feelings were buried somewhere inside. Maybe I couldn't access them until all this… stuff," he indicated the mess, "opened me up. So. I finally find a guy who makes me feel wanted and needed, makes me feel like a hero," the Bucky figurine had been behead and dismembered, and there was a knife stuck through the chest, "makes me fall in love with a ghost… and then completely, utterly rejects me. Then tells me to find someone else! Like anyone else could live up to that." He snorted bitterly. "So yeah. Didn't go well. You called it, Steve."

"I'm sorry, Bucky."

"Don't be. I should've known he wouldn't feel strongly enough about me to try." He sighed, and struggled to his feet. "I'm gonna go lie down. See you later, punk."

"Jerk," Steve replied absently. He watched Bucky trudge off to his room.

Then he went straight down to the garage, grabbed his motorbike, and edged the speed limit all the way to SHIELD headquarters.

* * *

Phil was minding his own business (and feeling sorry for himself) when Steve Rogers barged in like Nemesis. Phil dropped the red pen he'd been using to attack some poorly-written paperwork, and gulped.

"Steve," he said. "How are—"

"Fuck you, Coulson," Steve said. Phil's jaw dropped. "Yeah. Screw you and your mind games. You've ruined my best friend, and don't think I can't make your life _hell_ if you don't fix him."

"What're you—"

"Go see Bucky. _Now_. Go see what you've done to him. You got his hopes up, made him think he was loved. Made the rest of us think he had a _chance_ at happiness and love. Then you pulled the rug out from under him. He's fallen, and he's not gonna get up this time. Not without your help."

Phil gathered his thoughts. "He doesn't want me—"

"Like _hell_ he doesn't!" Steve bellowed. Phil's ears were close to ringing. "You think he doesn't want you? Well, then why don't you give him the chance? It's been over a year since I got him back, and he's still getting used to the concept of making his own choices. He chose _you_, Phil. If he didn't want to try for a relationship with you, he wouldn't have. But he decided that you were it, though I'm really starting to wonder what he sees in you. I thought you were one of the good guys, but now I'm thinking that you're just another bureaucratic asshole who doesn't give a _damn_ about other people's feelings."

"Now wait just a goddamn minute," Phil said, standing up and leaning forward on his desk. "Before you continue with your 'righteous' indignation, maybe you'll listen to my side of the story first? You know, in the interests of _fairness_? You think Bucky's the only victim here. I'm the one who's been in unrequited love with him for _months_. He's never, in all that time, made his interest known. While he was trying to figure out who his secret admirer was, he was looking at _everyone_ but me. I'm his colleague, the guy whose office he hangs out in because I saw that he wasn't fitting in with his team."

"What do you—"

"You've said your piece, _captain_. It's my turn. He felt like an outsider. It was obvious to _everyone_ except you. I tried to help him fit in. The letters and presents? It's because he told me that he wished he could be in love with someone, with someone who wanted him back. He thought that his injuries would put women off. Yes, women. He never mentioned being remotely attracted to men. I'm aware of the era in which you grew up, but he's had time to learn about pride. A team with only one woman, and he never even considered being with a man? He wanted love, so I tried to show him that at least one person loved him non-platonically, hoping that his self-esteem would get a boost and that he'd go out and find a nice girl to settle down with." He inhaled shakily. "I never dreamed… okay, dreamed, but never actually thought, seriously thought, that my feelings would be reciprocated."

"But they are," Steve said.

"I can't allow myself to believe that," Phil said wearily. "It's not good for my heart. That was already damaged by Loki; it can't take any more beating. And I can't let Bucky tie himself down to a tired old SHIELD agent with a receding hairline and a wardrobe consisting only of suits and Captain America pyjamas." Steve half-smiled at that.

"But you're a good man," he said. "That's what I want for Bucky."

"Not another bureaucratic asshole?"

"I wasn't out of line, saying that," Steve said. "I have every right to be pissed off. We've worked hard to cheer Bucky up. Did you know that he's been worried that you weren't serious? That it was just pity? We've all been telling him that you'd be ecstatic to find out that he wants you, too. We gave him hope, just like you did, and now that's all gone to hell."

Phil looked up again, his heart aching dangerously. "How bad is he?"

"Bad. If you saw his place, saw him, you'd realise. I… I can't even put it into words."

"Shit," Phil muttered, burying his face in his hands.

"Phil… I know you were trying, and I appreciate that you only want what's best for him. But I'm… I'm _horrified _that you think you're anything but the best. Don't you know how much everyone looks up to you? I'm sure there are people out there who'd kill to be in Bucky's place. Everything you did for him has been damaged because you were trying to make the sacrifice play again." He smiled wryly. "Hell, what I wouldn't give to have someone feel that strongly about me."

"There are people out there who would," Phil said. Steve shook his head.

"They don't know me as well as you know Bucky," he said. "Or thought you did."

Phil propped his pen up in his pencil holder. "He's really not good?"

"I need you to go see him. You're the only one who can fix this, if that's even possible. If it hasn't gone too far. JARVIS is monitoring him, but…"

"I'll be there as soon as I can."

"I'll take you on the bike. It'll be faster."

* * *

**Oh noes! (And I got tears in my eyes at one point. Oh, it's so much fun to write Bucky angst and all the feels, but my gods, it's hard on the soul.)**

**Can it all be fixed in time, or is it ruined beyond repair? And whoa! What the hell happened? I don't think I've ever written a conversation like that between Steve and Phil before. Shipped them too many times in the past. Can't believe I managed to pull that off.**

**Please review, fair readers! With the exception of one reader, nearly everybody voted to finish this story early and start posting the next on Valentine's Day. So… that's what'll happen, I suppose.**


	5. Chapter 5

"Chapter Five"

Phil arrived at Bucky's floor alone, having left Steve behind to park the motorbike. He walked through the apartment, and noticed his gifts and messages all over the carpet, torn to pieces. In anger or grief, he wasn't sure. It could have been both; but judging by Steve's rant, it was most likely grief. The sight brought moisture to Phil's eyes, but he blinked it back. Now wasn't the time to get emotional. Now was the time to make reparations, if they really were needed.

He searched for Bucky, and soon found him curled up in bed, facing away from the door and buried under blankets. He was clutching a pillow, metal arm barely glinting in the low light, creaking slightly as it shifted.

"Go `way, Steve," he mumbled. "I'll be fine."

His voice was almost a croak, and as Phil stepped closer, he saw a bin half filled with tissues. Bucky tensed.

"Leave," he said. There was some life there, in the hard edge. "Now."

"Bucky…"

"You made it clear. Go."

He should have gone, but Phil had a habit of courting danger for the greater good. So he perched on the side of the bed. Bucky hid his face in the pillow, but Phil saw enough of the tearstains to feel guilty as all hell.

"Can't you see that everyone cares about you?" he said gently.

"Not you," Bucky muttered.

"If you could look past your crush on a nameless fantasy, you'd see that more than one person out there has your best interests in mind. Clint and Natasha told me that they've been helping you, and Steve confirmed that everyone's been supportive."

"But you don't care a damn about me."

"Of course I do," Phil said, touching Bucky's metal arm. Bucky pulled away.

"It wasn't a crush," he said. "Don't you _dare_ think that I don't know my own heart. My mind… is a different story, but my heart knows—"

"You'll get over it. We'll both get over it."

"_No_, Phil." Bucky sat up, glaring daggers at him. "Why should I? _Why should we_? I…" He shook his head fiercely. "How can you…"

"Bucky—"

"You're a skilled fighter, but you never kill unless it's necessary. You give people second chances. You're a good-looking guy, no matter what you think. You're one of the nicest people I've ever met. You never gave up on me, or on any of the others. You're the only one who can wrangle us and keep the peace. We all miss you when you aren't there. I… I love it when you get that evil glint in your eyes, when you're about to be sarcastic, or saddle Stark with an armful of paperwork. I get jealous when you spend time with other people, and… I don't know how I missed it before, but I got even more jealous when you were flirted with. I worry about you when we're fighting the bad guys, even though I _know_ you can handle yourself on the field. Whenever your tie's crooked afterwards, I wanna be the one to straighten it."

Phil shifted closer, but Bucky was staring down at his hands as he spoke.

"Bucky," he tried again. Bucky looked away, pursing his lips until they were white.

"Phil," he said. It was nearly a whimper. "I destroyed everything you gave me, because you destroyed everything you gave me when you told me that I didn't know what it meant to be in l-love with someone."

"I never said that," Phil began.

"But that's what I took from it. What else was I supposed to think? I… I can't blame you for not wanting to be with the Winter Soldier. He's a part of me, and always will be. I can't erase all the bad I've done, just try to make up for it. It just… It hurts to face the reality that I'll never escape it. He'll always ruin any chance I have for…" He swallowed, and Phil inched his hand closer to Bucky's knee. "I wish I'd died when I fell from that train. Really died. Then this…" He gestured between them. "Would've never happened."

"Don't say that," Phil said. "You're a great man. You've overcome so much hardship and come out the other side stronger and more determined to make a difference. Your life is worth keeping."

"But my heart isn't worth having," Bucky whispered. He sniffed wetly.

"I told you before, I accept every part of you, including the Winter Solder. I have no problem with that, with him. But could we really work?"

"Well." Bucky straightened, facing Phil head on. The look on his face bordered on blank. "You don't think we can, so I guess not. If you're not even gonna give it a chance, or believe in us at all, then you're right. We shouldn't bother."

Phil inhaled slowly. "I'm just a bureaucrat. I'm not a superhero."

"You? 'Just a bureaucrat'? Weren't you listening? You're a hero to more people than you know, all without superpowers. That's extraordinary."

He ducked his head, trying to contain the feelings welling up in his chest.

"James Barnes, you have so much to give the world," he said. "You'd leave me behind. Unintentionally, but I could never keep up with you. Everything I said before—"

"Is garbage. I love you for who you are, and I have longer than I even knew," Bucky said. "I've given it a lot of thought, and I think that's why I didn't suspect you."

"What do you mean?" Phil asked, tilting his head. Bucky half-smiled bitterly.

"Why would you possibly look twice at a man with nothing much to offer?" he said. "I think that part of me wanted it to be you all along, and rejected that because… it's not like a guy like me deserves to get what I want." His eyes met Phil's at the end. They were shiny. "The guy who kept putting me first, wanted to make me happy without any hidden agenda. Why can't you… why can't…"

He lowered his head again. Phil's heart came near to breaking again at the defeated hunch to Bucky's shoulders. He moved closer and gathered Bucky into his arms. Bucky wrapped his arms around Phil's waist and pressed his face into the material of Phil's jacket. His body trembled.

"The Winter Soldier was just a weapon," Phil murmured. "Weapons aren't people. You're a person, and sometimes you use yourself as that weapon again, but it's not who you are. I love _you_, Bucky Barnes. No one's ever loved me back before, and I'm nearly fifty. I find it hard to conceive that it's finally happening. Can you blame me for being wary? I want you so, so much." He rocked Bucky back and forth, holding him tightly. "Please stop crying. I don't want to tie you down. Either I'll die unexpectedly, or I'll age while you stay young. Why would you want that?"

"I've told you," Bucky said in a small voice. "Why won't you believe me?"

Phil pulled back a little, just enough to look Bucky in the eyes. Their faces were close, so close they could kiss. But not yet.

"Why did you break everything?" he asked. Bucky snorted quietly.

"I was pissed," he said. "And frustrated. And heartbroken. You didn't want me. You'd been lying all the time, stringing me along. It was all false, everything. I couldn't look at any of it without wanting to be sick. Kept telling myself I was an idiot for thinking anyone would look past the scars and see the real me, and want me for who I was."

"You have to know now that it's not true," Phil said, cupping Bucky's cheek. "I'm so sorry I did this to you. I've screwed everything up. I should've just kept quiet, and let you find love on your own."

"Stuck on you for so long without realising it? I would've sabotaged any relationship I tried for."

After a pause, Phil leaned in and kissed the corner of Bucky's mouth. Then he pulled him back into a hug. This time, Bucky rested his cheek against Phil's chest. He was no longer shaking, just leaning into Phil's touch.

"_You are the promised kiss of spring-time that makes the lonely winter seem long_," Phil sang. "_You are the breathless hush of evening that trembles on the brink of a lovely song_."

"I like that song," Bucky said. "I've danced to it."

"I could take you dancing for our first date." Bucky sat up, but Phil didn't let him go far. He opened his mouth, and Phil placed a finger over his lips. "No games. Only the truth from now on. I'm not stringing you along. I'm not gonna give up on you, _ever_. I'm just gonna keep on loving you until you get tired of me."

"Not gonna happen."

"What's not going to happen?"

Bucky rested his forehead against Phil's. "Never grow tired of you, Phil."

"You say that now—"

"Never." There was a fire in Bucky's eyes. An inferno. "So help me, Phil Coulson, you're stuck with me. If this… please let this be real."

"Does this feel real?" Phil asked. He leaned in again, and this time met Bucky's lips.

It was real, alright.

* * *

Phil looked at the nightstand, while Bucky was resting against his bare chest.

"Good thing you didn't throw those out," he said, referring to the items Bucky had bought in anticipation of eventually getting Phil into his bed. He wasn't planning on it being so soon, but he had a burning need to confirm that this was real. The mild ache between his legs was testament to that, and he smiled into his lover's skin.

"Thought I'd get a chance to court you first," he said.

"No time for that in our line of work. So. Wanna keep me around?"

Bucky nodded, and he yawned. He huddled into Phil's warmth. "We should probably shower."

"And then clean up the mess out there."

He grimaced. "I'm sorry. I was… overly emotional."

Phil tilted his head up. "You're worth more to me than all the riches of the world. Things don't matter. Only you."

His heart swelled. If Bucky wasn't still at the boneless stage, he'd reach up to kiss Phil. He satisfied himself with praying for forever.

"Don't break my heart again, or JARVIS will avenge me," he said. Phil laughed, and Bucky smirked tiredly.

"Noted," he said. "Think we can get past this?"

"Get past what?" Bucky said. Phil went to reply, but he hushed him. "I got you in the end. Well, before you got me in the end." Phil's cheeks turned pink when Bucky winked. "We got each other now. More than I thought I'd get an hour ago."

Phil felt a twinge of regret, but knew that it would be unhealthy to hold onto his feelings of guilt.

"Let's take a bath instead," he suggested. "I don't think I have the energy to stand up for long enough to get clean, then dirty again, then get clean once more."

"Mmm. I like that idea very much."

"Which part?"

"All of it."

* * *

At dinner that night, the love bites on Phil's neck were visible, and the way Bucky shifted in his chair was also pretty telling. Steve looked between them, the pleased relief on Bucky's face and the shy happiness on Phil's. They made eye contact briefly, and Phil mouthed 'Thank you'. Steve gave him a look to say 'Don't screw up', and Phil nodded slightly. Bucky leaned against him, and they smiled as their eyes met.

It was kind of sweet. Sickeningly sweet, to be honest, but no one deserved it more.

"When's the engagement going to happen?" Tony asked. Steve noticed that Bucky watched Tony as the billionaire went to take a sip.

"Well, we had sex three times this afternoon, so I guess I should make an honest man out of him as soon as possible," Bucky remarked. Tony choked on his drink, Phil chuckled nervously, and the others looked at Phil with newfound respect. "Sorry, four times. Against the wall counts, doesn't it?"

"Yes, it does, Bucky," Phil said, squeezing his hand. "Okay. I'll marry you."

* * *

**Why the hell did I end it like that? Le sigh.**

**Well! Hope you enjoyed the angst-fest. I feel guilty about the whole damn thing, and what I plan to do in my next Phil/Bucky story. Oops. Evil author strikes again, gosh darn it.**

**Happy ending = No author being lynched today.**

**Please review!**


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